


About Last Night...

by cherryvanilla



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Last Night...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxxcub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxcub/gifts).



> Foxxcub wanted 500 words of angry kissing. Instead, I did over 600 of morning after fic. This is still for her.

At breakfast, Tony couldn’t take his eyes off Steve. This was not an anomaly in and of itself, but now there’s variation to the thoughts that usually cross Tony’s mind in instances such as this. For example, that body had never been laid out on his bed sheets less than two hours prior. The deep red contrasted nicely with Steve’s pale skin and golden hair; Tony needed to remind JARVIS to stick with this new color scheme. Steve caught Tony’s gaze and smiled softly, discreetly, turning his attention back to his newspaper and casually sipping his coffee. Tony kept on staring, not caring how overt he was being. This was his house, dammit. His focus narrowed on a spot just at Steve’s collar, a small, purplish bruise. He flashed on its origin: Steve above him, their bodies a frantic succession of thrusts, Tony’s fingers laced around the small of Steve’s back while he surged upward and sucked bruising kisses along he base of his throat as their cocks brushed against one another.

His cock twitched at the memory and he realized he was still staring at Steve, breathing becoming erratic. Steve shifted one eye in his direction and Tony could see the faint blush tinting his cheeks, the way his throat bobbed and he licked his lips, almost unconsciously. Steve cleared his throat and pointedly returned to his reading.

Tony smirked and took a bite of his toast. Around them, Clint was talking about an upcoming mission, Natasha was shooting down every one of his ideas, and Thor was trying to figure out, for the millionth time, how to text Jane. Tony started when he felt a touch to his leg. When he looked up, Steve was acting as casual as ever but that was definitely a socked foot skimming along Tony’s ankle. It was ridiculous how one touch made him want to throw Captain America on a table and fuck him within an inch of his life, but there you have it. Tony couldn’t be responsible for his next train of thought. Couldn’t help but remember the way Steve thrashed on the bed at Tony’s mouth on his cock, couldn’t forget the breathy, high moans and the white-knuckled grip on the sheets when Tony’s tongue slid lower, inside.

“Oh my.. oh god, _Tony_. I.. please.”

“What do you want?” Tony said against him before licking his perfect ass again, squeezing the firm cheeks beneath his fingers.

Steve moaned loudly and curved his leg around Tony’s thigh, as if on instinct. “You.. do it, please.”

Tony Stark needn’t be asked twice and before long Steve’s legs were around him and Tony was encased in tight heat that he never wanted to leave. Prior to this night there had only been kissing. Kissing and some embarrassing over-the-clothes hand jobs while laid out on Tony’s couch. Okay and maybe one blowjob. Yes, that one time he’d pushed Steve against the wall of his workshop and dropped to his knees while telling JARVIS not to let anyone in.

Regardless, there was never a bed before, never full-on nakedness. Moreover, Tony Stark had never deflowered Captain America before.

Tony pushed his chair back from the table. “Cap, can you help me with something in my shop? That thing we talked about last night?”

Steve looked up at him, quizzically. “That thing we...” he trailed off, color rising to his cheeks. Always fast on the uptake; that was Steve. “Yes, um. Yeah.”

Tony didn’t bother looking around the table, could pretty much guess everyone’s reactions.

Eventually, he’d have to figure out a way not to let fucking Steve Rogers make him feel like a 16-year-old who got hard when the wind blew, but hey, it was only the morning after. He decided to give himself a pass for the day.


End file.
